Roses and Violets
by Aurorazilla
Summary: The first time Chloe brings it up, Max almost chokes on her mouthful of water. "Are we avoiding the inevitable?" Sputtering and coughing, Max wipes underneath her eyes to get rid of the tears that choking had sprung up. "What?" "You know: dying. Me, specifically." Or the one where I arise once again as Satan and take my throne of human tears.


**Yes, I'm working on my Hollstein fic. No, it's not finished. Yes, I procrastinate too much.**

 **Remember that time I made a few fics for other fandoms that made lots of people hella sad? Haha good times. SO HERE'S A PRICEFIELD FIC.**

 **It's not at all angsty hahahahaha enjoy**

* * *

The first time Chloe brings it up, Max almost chokes on her mouthful of water.

"Are we avoiding the inevitable?"

Sputtering and coughing, Max wipes underneath her eyes to get rid of the tears that choking had sprung up. "What?"

"You know: dying. Me, specifically."

Max's mouth goes dry. "Ah. Why do you want to talk about this, exactly?"

"You chose me, Max, and really, I'm flattered, and beyond grateful and no words will ever express my feelings, but... let's face it, Max, that might not be the last cyclone we cause by keeping me alive." She avoids the brunette's gaze, choosing, instead, to play with her chipped nail polish.

Max wants to tell her she will save her over a thousand towns, but she doesn't know if that will help whatever feelings Chloe has for herself and being alive. Does she regret that Max made that choice?

"Chloe," Max says softly. "What's _really_ the matter?"

Chloe looks up, her blue eyes flashing with something Max can't quite place. "Max, I was _meant_ to be dead. I'm _not_ supposed to be here, it's not my destiny."

"We change our own destiny." Max argues.

"And the destinies of those around us, right? You know, there was a woman in town, who talked to me one day at the station. She was a cop, so of course I was a total dick to her. But she just... talked to me. Even when I didn't respond. She acted like we weren't separated by iron bars. She talked about her upcoming wedding in November, the future she had planned for herself, she talked about everything. Was it okay to change _her_ destiny for _mine_?"

Max stays silent, feeling a lump rise to her throat and anxiety creep into her mind. It's been a month since Arcadia, and she's barely made much of a recovery in terms of facing the truth of what she's done. She can't stop thinking about those faces, those voices, the _people_ she had technically personally _killed_. She's haunted, she knows it, and bringing stuff up like this only make her memories more vivid at night.

Chloe seems to have lost her anger, and her eyes widen when she realizes her words. "Shit, Max, I... god, I'm sorry. I just... I just want to understand why you would choose me, of all people."

The pair spends most of the night watching reruns of Hawt Dawg Man, Max snuggled into Chloe's side and Chloe's arm thrown over the smaller girl's shoulders.

(It's entirely platonic, I assure you.)

* * *

The next time Chloe brings it up, Max is equally as unprepared.

They had returned to Arcadia to go to a memorial service for all of the confirmed dead citizens. Two months since the incident had provided them enough of a time frame to figure out who was gone and who was not.

Max and Chloe didn't want to go to the actual service, because Max couldn't face the families whom she tore apart. Chloe understood, and agreed it'd just be better to wait until the crowds dispersed from the giant wall of names.

When they finally make it, it doesn't take long before Chloe collapses onto her knees as hard sobs wrack her body.

Max rushes to her side, looking, at last, at the names of those she'd let die.

She stops reading when she sees the names she never wanted to see. _Frank Bowers, Warren Graham._ (She tries to stop herself from feeling so happy by the fact that Mark Jefferson's name is on the wall.) She feels a slight relief at the fact that Rachel, Victoria, Brooke, Dana, and Juliet made it out okay. She looks again at the wall, searching for what made Chloe so upset.

 _Joyce Price._

Max wraps her arms around her taller friend the instant she recognizes the name, and the blue-haired woman cries hard into her shoulder.

Chloe had known her mother was dead. It was seeing the proof that broke her.

Chloe Price does not want to be broken. She doesn't want to grieve. So, she tries to blame.

She shoves back from Max, her blue eyes full of tears and anger and Max wishes she knew how to help.

"Why did you have to save me, Max?" Chloe demands. "My mom didn't deserve this! She didn't... she didn't deserve any of this!"

Max knows how to deal with Chloe Price. She doesn't say a word.

"She didn't even deserve me, the worst kid." Chloe shakes her head. "God, I was so awful to her, Max. What's saving me going to do, anyway? If I'm destined to die young, then I'm going to keep dying, Max. She died for _nothing_."

Chloe wipes furiously at her tears and stands up. She always hated crying, even when she was little. She hates the hiccups, the redness, the altogether suckiness.

"Why couldn't you let me die, Max? Why couldn't you just _forget about me_ and let me fucking die? God, she didn't deserve me at all. I was the worst and it's my fault she's-"

That strikes a nerve in Max, and the small girl finds herself standing up and getting right into Chloe's personal space.

"Chloe, stop." She commands in an uncharacteristically strong tone. "You know for a fact that Joyce loved you with all her heart. Stop blaming yourself for _my_ mistakes because I know that you don't blame me for a second!"

Despite the obvious height difference, Max feels like she's towering over Chloe. "You can't throw blame around like that, Chloe. It was _my_ decision, and yeah, get pissed if you want. But honestly? I don't _care_ if you're destined to die, because I will fight to keep you breathing until you're an old lady for as long as I possibly can. I would choose you over a town a thousand more times, because, Jesus _Christ_ , Chloe, I fucking love you! How blind can you possibly be?"

Chloe's tears have slowed and she gapes at her companion with wide eyes. Max is shaking, tears just threatening to spill.

It's a weird silence that seems to be filled with electricity, and Chloe finds herself at a loss for words and a yearning to fill the silence.

"You... love me?" Chloe echoes.

The words leave her mouth with a strange feeling. And really, they shouldn't, because they used to say it all the time. But the way Max had said it, and the way Chloe had repeated it, made the words feel foreign and new and beautiful.

Max groans and shakes her head in an annoyed manner. Instead of actually confirming with words, she grabs the sides of Chloe's face and pulls her down so that their lips meet.

Chloe kisses back once she gets over the initial shock, and holds Max's small body close to hers. It's sort of insensitive, probably, to kiss in front of her mother's memorial, as well as Warren's, who was entirely Gaga for Max.

When they pull apart a bit, they lean their foreheads together.

"Please stop being mad at me," Max whispers, instantly going from confident to shy.

"I wasn't mad at you." Chloe admits, holding Max a little tighter. "I... I'm mad at me."

"She's with William, now," Max says with a hopeful hint in her tone that doesn't ever fail to make Chloe smile.

"I hope so." Chloe sighs.

"Even if you are destined to die again, can we... can we just be here, together, in the present?"

"Anything you want, Mad Max."

 _Anything she wants_.

* * *

Years later, Max and Chloe mention it in their vows, though nobody understands or really questions it. Kate is a proud Maid of Honour, while the other girls from Blackwell are bridesmaids. Victoria is well-known for her photography, and even takes it upon herself to snap pictures of the event. ("To mark the day Max Caulfield and Chloe Price became the most hipster couple in all the world." But, really, she was so happy, and even cried a bit.)

"If we are destined to die young, we will have the time we spent together, and the love we shared. We will live on in our memories, and that's the greatest gift."

Max has never been so happy, and neither has Chloe.

* * *

Max had known Chloe was right.

She had always been destined to die, and saving her in Arcadia was only putting it off. For how long, though?

Twenty years, apparently.

Twenty years that, at the time, felt so long, but looking back, were never long enough.

Max had gotten the phone call from the hospital at around five at night, and had made it to the hospital at 5:10, despite it being a half hour drive. (Her rewind powers may be weak, but if she got into an accident she could at least rewind enough to save herself and the person she crashed into.)

"I-I'm here for Chloe Price." She stutters to the nurse at the desk.

"Are you family?"

"I'm her wife."

"Please have a seat, a doctor will be out in a moment."

Max calls everyone, and they all come, except for your parents and David Madsen, who are delayed by their distance. Victoria and Kate are the ones to comfort Max the most, and Juliet and Dana are trying to pry information out of any innocent nurse unlucky enough to walk by.

"She'll be okay, Max," Kate murmurs.

Victoria shoots her a look, as if to say, _'don't fucking say that, you don't know that',_ but Kate promptly ignores it.

"Mrs. Price?" A man's voice calls out, and Max springs up out of her friends' arms.

"Yes, that's me."

He takes a deep breath and motions for her to come closer.

He speaks in a soft voice, like he knows Chloe is Max's world, and her life will be empty without her. "Your wife's injuries... they are quite severe. We've stabilized her as best as we could, but... I'm going to be honest with you, I'm not sure if she can even make it through the night. It's like her body, her soul, maybe, just knows it's time. I'm sorry. You and your friends can say goodbye."

Max feels her body sink to the cold tile, and she feels Victoria pick her up and hug her close. She had lost someone, too, and she understands how Max feels. Kate joins the hug, and so do Dana and Juliet eventually.

Max's entire body seems to be filled to the brim with anxiety and crippling sadness. She was right. She was _right_. They couldn't run from the inevitable forever. Chloe Price was destined to die, and they could put it off as long as they wanted, but it would always come in the end.

Of course it's the first time the two are separated for a car trip.

In all their years together, this was the first time she left Max at the apartment alone. Some sort of surprise for their reunion as friends twenty years ago. Chloe hated driving alone, and Max hated being alone, so it was only appropriate for the two to travel together as much as possible.

(Max had only saved Chloe two other times, and both were in car accidents, so she should have known.)

When Max can gather enough strength to stop crying, and actually walk, her friends follow her closely as she makes her way to Chloe's room.

A faint memory in the back of Max's mind resurfaces. Chloe is attached to machines, with sad blue eyes that ask for a way out.

She quickly snaps out of the vision, and looks at her wife.

She's in a similar situation.

IV's hooked up to her, a heart monitor, a tube connected to some sort of breathing machine... her eyes are not sad, though. They may be a bit hazy, thanks to the medicine, but they brighten when they find Max.

"Max," her voice is breathy. "Look, you take my breath away." She points to the machine and laughs to herself.

Despite the tears threatening to spill over, Max chuckles and rolls her eyes. "You absolute fucking nerd."

She hugs Chloe carefully, like she's made of glass, and their friends hesitate outside of the room, afraid to ruin a private moment.

"Please don't leave," Max whispers. "Maybe I can... maybe I can find a picture from before, and we can-"

"Max, stop." Chloe shakes her head. "No more rewinds. You're getting weaker every time you use it."

"I don't care."

"Don't put off the inevitable again. I'm destined to die like this, you know that. If I don't die now, then I'll just die another time. We're all going to die Max, and I'm just glad I'm here with you now." She holds Max's hand.

"I wish I could..."

"Stop, don't waste your life with 'what ifs'. You're a photographer, Max. Do you stay up night and day asking yourself what would happen if you took the shot? No, because you already took it. This was our shot, Max. Our twenty years. And they were the _best_ fucking years I've ever had. I found you again, and I found my heart again. I learned how to love again, because of _you_. Don't blame yourself for not going back, because this would have been the end anyway."

Max lets her tears fall. "But what will I do without you?"

"Live, stupid." Chloe chuckles. "You're thirty-eight. You'll find something to do – or even some _one_."

"No," Max huffs. "Nobody can replace you."

"Then just live for me, Max. Please. I love you."

"I love you, too, Chloe."

"Tell those assholes they can come in so granny can say goodbye." Chloe jokes.

As the group rejoins them and Chloe talks to each one, she can't help but compare this Chloe to the one twenty years ago. That Chloe had been so scared at the thought of dying, even if she could save the town. She had been so afraid of letting go. Even the Chloe in the other reality, the one who wanted it so badly, could not face death with a clear, fearless mind.

But this Chloe?  
She accepted it.

She forgave. She lived. She was older, and she had a good life with Max. She could let go, now, and she could move on. Wherever she's going after this.

At three o'clock in the morning, Chloe is weak, and fading fast.

Max is the last one in the room with her awake – Victoria and Kate were in the corner, Kate's head on Victoria's shoulder, and Victoria's head on top of Kate's, and Juliet and Dana had passed out long ago in the uncomfortable chair near the door.

Chloe was tired, Max knew, but she didn't close her eyes to sleep.

"Max," she whispers, her voice quiet and somehow aged.

"Yes, what is it?" Max scoots her chair closer to the bed with wide eyes. "Do you need water? Another blanket?"

"Max, no," Chloe lets out a breath of air that sounds a bit like a laugh. "Just... hold my hand, okay?" Max complies without hesitation. "Thanks for... for saving me. Glad I got to be with you, even if it was for twenty more years. I... I'm happy to call you my soulmate, my wife. I love you."

"I love you too," Max sniffles. She's already cried so much today. How can she still have tears left?

"Stop crying, big baby," Chloe teases. "We'll find each other again, someday."

"I love you," Max repeats.

"Love you too, MaxiPad," Chloe's voice is much quieter now, and it terrifies Max. "Before I go... kiss me? Want the last thing I feel to be you..."

Max stands up and leans over Chloe, pressing her lips softly against the taller woman's. She's sure Chloe feels the tears dripping onto her face, or tastes the saltiness on her lips, but Max doesn't care. She just kisses, and kisses, until she feels Chloe slowly stop kissing her back.

Max pulls away, looking at the shut eyes and listening to the constant flat 'beep' of the heart monitor.

"I'll be with you forever," Max repeats their promise from years ago. _Where you go, I go... even if I am a little late._

* * *

Max hates funerals. She'd rather celebrate Chloe's life by partying, though she can't really find it in herself to do so. So, when Chloe is lowered to the ground, Max lets her heart follow that wooden box.

* * *

Victoria and Kate get married. It's surprising, but you find it adorable, and you're the Maid of Honour, so you let yourself have fun and take pictures and talk with Kate's sisters. They look happy, and Max is glad they've finally found peace.

* * *

Victoria is the one who gets the call about Max, and, once she and Kate and the others are allowed in the hospital room, she's the first to tell Max how awful she looks.

Max smiles a bit. It's been five years since Chloe's death as of the next day, at three in the morning, and she's aged more than a forty-three year old should. Her photography career was booming, and maybe that caused stress, or maybe it was the purple under her eyes that made her seem so much older.

Max Caulfield had a heart attack, and would soon suffer from heart failure as well as respiratory failure.

The group tells stories all night, and none of them want to shut their eyes for a second, because Max Caulfield had changed their lives and it wasn't right to leave her alone.

"Guess Chloe really did take my breath away, huh?" Max jokes lightly. And her heart hurts so much.

She remembers reading, long ago, about being able to actually die from heartbreak. She knows there are 'strings' in your heart that are important tendons, and can actually break. She's not sure if the information is true, but it's out there, and maybe that's what's killing her. Heartbreak.

"Even on your deathbed, you have to make terrible jokes." Victoria shakes her head. "Just like Chloe."

Max smiles. "You love it."

"That may be true, Max, but that doesn't mean it doesn't irk me." Victoria returns the smile.

Three o'clock rolls around, and Max can sense herself getting weaker. So, she says goodbye in the only way she can. She picks up her camera, which Kate had brought, and takes a picture with her friends.

"I love you guys," she sighs.

"We love you, too, Max." Victoria feels the tears spilling along her cheeks.

Max Caulfield slips away a few minutes later, leaving her friends to go to another world.

 _"Leaving me for five years again, Caulfield? Christ, you like to keep a girl waiting."_

* * *

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